(Not)
by willshakespeare-immortalbard
Summary: Because it was (not) over. Because it was (not) alright. Because they were (not) sorry. ** The aftermath of the Yggdrasil. ** Contains SPOILERS for "The Enchantress." ** Rated K-plus. ** Please read/review!


**A/N—Disclaimer: I don't own **_**The Secrets of the Immortal Nicholas Flamel**_**; everything—****everything!****—belongs to Michael Scott. **

** Notes: Ever since **_**The Enchantress**_** came out I've been struggling to write a fanfiction which shows the aftermath of Palamedes' almost sacrifice on the Yggdrasil. The reaction, the characters' interactions, **_**everything **_**has eluded me for two years now: **_**two years**_**. **

**Summary: Because it was (**_**not**_**) over. Because it was (**_**not**_**) alright. Because they were (**_**not**_**) sorry.**

* * *

"_**I know you would give your life for him**_**.**_" (_The Warlock, p. 359)

* * *

_"__**I know you would give your life for him**__." _

Abraham's golden words burned and whispered in his brain like the emerald tablet burned and whispered in his pocket, both of them burning and whispering like the secret that he should have told Will (_that he should have told himself_)—and he almost wished that Abraham had never spoken those words, almost wished that the emerald tablet had never shown their truthfulness.

Except that Palamedes wasn't stupid, and he knew that he would have done the same thing anyway.

* * *

"_**I know you would give your life for him.**__"_

Abraham's golden words boiled and bubbled in his stomach like the cauldron boiled and bubbled in _Macbeth_, both of them boiling and bubbling like the hate that he shouldn't feel (_that he shouldn't ever feel_)—and he wished with all of his heart that Abraham had never spoken those words, just as Macbeth and Banquo wished that the three hags had never spoken.

Except that Will wasn't stupid, and he knew that hating Abraham was useless because Palamedes would have done the same thing anyway.

* * *

"_**I know you would give your life for him**__." _

_ What do you say when you take two hundred years of friendship (nearly forty years of living in the same metal shack in the same metal junkyard) and you suddenly…when you suddenly…_

_ When you suddenly what? _

* * *

_"__**I know you would give your life for him.**__"_

The moment Will's feet touched the solid branch of the Yggdrasil, the tears started; loud, harsh, overwhelming. He dropped to his knees, wrapping his arms around himself (_trying to keep himself, and everything around him, from breaking_), and he cried.

He cried because of what Palamedes had almost done; he cried because of Abraham's words; he cried because, what seemed so long ago, he hadn't said _no_ to Marethyu when Palamedes had wanted to (_and then everything that had almost happened would have been his fault_).

He cried.

* * *

_"__**I know you would give your life for him**__."_

Out of the corner of his eye, Palamedes saw the Bard sink to the ground through the haze of hands and voices that surrounded him; he pushed the hands away, ignored the voices; and somehow, whether or not they actually disappeared, he ceased to feel or hear them.

His legs were unsteady beneath him as he rose. They remained unsteady as he walked, and every step he took made the world around him tilt worryingly. He was glad to be able to sink to his knees again when he was next to Will.

"Will…"

* * *

"_**I know you would give your life for him**__."_

"Will…"

He knew it was hysteria, a panic attack; he knew that it would pass if he could only calm down. But he couldn't—he couldn't. The sound of the knight's deep, rumbling voice only recalled memories of the words he had spoken as he dangled in midair; the hand that the knight placed on his shoulder only recalled the pressure of Palamedes' fingers slipping away from his ankle as the knight let go.

Palamedes couldn't fix it. He was only making it worse.

* * *

"_**I know you would give your life for him."**_

What was he supposed to do?

Every instinct told him to keep talking.

Every instinct told him to say that everything was over.

Every instinct told him to say that everything was alright.

Every instinct told him to say that he was sorry.

But each and every one of those sentiments was wrong, and what was he supposed to do? Lie?

* * *

_**"I know that you would give your life for him."**_

The two immortals sat together on the branch of the Yggdrasil, immortals and Elders around them; neither group said a word; neither group had anything to say.

Because it was (_not_) over.

Because it was (_not_) alright.

Because they were (_not_) sorry.

Because the immortals and Elders (Scathach, Joan, Francis, Prometheus, Huitzilopochtli, Hekate) could never really understand what had happened.

Because Will knew only too well what had happened, and Palamedes knew only too well what had happened.

Because in the end, they could either be silent…or lie. And lying wasn't an option, because the two people it concerned knew better.


End file.
